


In My Sleep (I See Your Glory)

by Novachester



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Consensual Somnophilia, M/M, Somnophilia
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-12-17
Updated: 2013-12-17
Packaged: 2018-01-05 00:24:02
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,232
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1087394
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Novachester/pseuds/Novachester
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>just a quick deancas ficlet involving sleepy!dean and horny powerbottom!cas</p>
            </blockquote>





	In My Sleep (I See Your Glory)

Exhausting.  
  
Exhausting, exhausting, _exhausting._  
  
Dean doesn’t know how many times he’s going to have to think it before the thought fades, but as he trudges into the bunker, it’s honestly the only one that sticks in his mind.  
  
He just wants to curl up in his bed, close his eyes and—  
  
"Cas, man, for real?" Dean manages to say just before Cas’s lips are upon his, quick and eager.  
  
"Yes, ‘for real,’" Cas echoes in response, pushing Dean up against his bedroom door, easing the jacket from Dean’s broad shoulders, which he squeezes appreciatively in passing.  
  
It astonishes Dean every time. No matter how little sleep they get, or how many graves they dig, Cas always come back from a hunt with unbelievable stamina and a libido that puts even Dean to _shame_.  
  
Dean only realizes the fact they’ve moved when his back hits the bed, with Cas already working on his pants, straddling his legs.   
  
"I’m exhausted, Cas. Can’t you jerk off in the shower or something?" Dean asks, though he’s putting up no resistance, and admittedly, the way Cas has started mouthing at his cock is _definitely_ doing something for him.  
  
Castiel swirls his tongue expertly around the head of Dean’s dick before he sucks half into his mouth, drawing back slowly. “Relax. I’ll do the work,” he assures, leaning back to pull his shirt off. After some careful acrobatics, Castiel also manages to get his pants and underwear off without kneeing Dean in the crotch.  
  
Reaching over to their night stand, Cas grabs the bottle of lube they keep in the drawer, dumping a generous portion of it onto his fingers before closing the cap and dropping it on the bed. When Dean reaches up, cock thick and throbbing despite the tired ache behind his eyes, Castiel pins _both_ of his hands above his head, which gives Dean all kinds of _dirtybad_ feelings.  
  
"I said relax," Castiel says, his breath ghosting over Dean’s lips as his slick hand disappears down between his legs. "I’ll take care of it."  
  
"Fine, fine…" Dean sighs, closing his eyes as Castiel kisses him, slow and soft. He tries to fade into the kiss, he really does, but between the wet noises Castiel’s fingers make and the way Castiel’s breath hitches when he presses his fingers _just right_ is making Dean squirm, the wet head of his cock rubbing against Castiel’s bare stomach.  
  
Dean whines. “C’mon, Cas. Before I fall asleep.”  
  
"Ssshhh," Castiel soothes, kissing along Dean’s jaw, down his neck. "I’ll wake you when I’m ready."  
  
"Y’sure?" Dean asks, already beginning to fade now that he’s gotten that sense of permission.   
  
"I’m sure."  
  
"Mm’kay. D’n’t st’p…" Dean manages to slur, head lolling to the side.  
  
Castiel smiles against the crook of Dean’s neck. “I won’t.”  
  
Dean is out like a light almost immediately, lips parted around shallow breathes. The feel of Castiel’s touch carries into his sleep, the butterfly kisses, the scratch of stubble against his skin.  
  
It all leads to other thoughts, to the familiar heat of Castiel, both inside him and around him, filling him both literally and figuratively with pleasure, with a bone-deep warmth that spreads and spreads until he feels in in the tip of every toe, every finger, even the tip of his nose.  
  
Castiel is all encompassing in Dean’s mind, engulfing him in soft light, like wings settling over his body and sheltering him from every chill he’s ever known. Even with his eyes shut, Dean sees the silhouette of Castiel above him, framed by light, like a halo over him.  
  
No matter how many times Castiel falls, or how human he becomes, Dean will never forget the majesty of him, the image of wings spread wide and formidable behind him, the incredible power he held in every ounce of his body, and in some ways, still does.  
  
Dean moans in his sleep, reaches out and clutches on tight, fingers curling around familiar slopes, thick thighs, muscles flexing under his fingers. “Cas,” he sighs, hands twitching.  
  
 _I’m here, Dean. You’re so good to me. Wonderful_ _, lovely, caring, strong,_ _magnificent…_  
  
Regardless of whether Dean dreams the praises or Cas is actually saying them, they settle deep into his core and soothe away any jagged edges they come across,  pleasure and heat building, building and building until—  
  
Dean wakes, bleary at first, but his breathing has gone from slow and shallow to quick, deep hiccups of breath, the bed rocking as his hips thrust up, as Castiel rolls his hips in time, grinding down onto Dean’s cock, his bright blue eyes focused entirely on Dean.  
  
"Dean," he breathes, eyes crinkling fondly. "E-even in your sleep, _oh!_ ”  
  
Dean tightens his hands on Castiel’s thighs and thrusts up _hard,_ voice rough with sex and sleep as he laughs, realizing that, yeah, he started fucking Cas in his damn sleep. “Fuck, feel so good. Dreamed about you. Warm, fuckin’ tight, _fuck,_ " Dean groans, tilting his head back as the two of them start to pick up speed, Cas bracing his hands back on Dean’s legs as his thighs work to lift and slam him back down on Dean’s dick.  
  
"So good, Cas, you’re so good, all lit up, wings, too fuckin’ good for me," Dean says all at once, a stream of consciousness as the metaphorical string draws tighter and tighter, making Dean feel like a bow pulled too far, taunt and ready to snap.  
  
Cas moans _loud_ , driving down so forcefully that it actually starts to hurt, but Dean just wants it faster, harder, wants more. He wants what he felt in that dream, wants Cas all around him and inside him at once, filling him up and cradling him. He tells Cas all of it, practically delirious on the haze of his sleep and the high of the rapidly building orgasm.  
  
It shocks him when Castiel comes suddenly, body stilling as he gasps, come spraying in thick white ribbons over Dean’s shirt, a drop spattering as far up as his chin. The clench of Castiel’s body around Dean’s cock intensifies and Dean groans with it, dull nails biting into Castiel’s thighs as he thrusts harder, harder, _harder_.  
  
"Fuck, fuck, fuck!" Dean cries, throwing his head back as he comes not long after, the tension draining from his body so suddenly that every muscle in his body just _collapses_ , his hands falling limply to the bed as the aftershocks ripple through his body.  
  
Nap or no nap, if Dean had been tired before, he’s fucking ruined now.  
  
"S’good… f’lt good… m’sl’p…" Dean mumbles, and as incoherent as he is, Castiel apparently understands perfectly.  
  
"Very good," Castiel responds, voice soft and slow with his own pleasure. Dean feels wet warmth on his chin as Castiel licks away what come had reached there, then he feels lips pressed to his own, but he’s already fading rapidly. He doesn’t really even feel it when Castiel eases up off of him, but he turns and readily cuddles against Castiel when the man lies down next to him, smiling lazily when arms curl around him.  
  
He can’t even be bothered to change out of his jizz-stained shirt.  
  
Against Castiel’s chest, Dean makes a noise that sounds like absolutely nothing remotely related to the English language, but Cas knows what he meant, and it makes him smile.  
  
"I love you, too, Dean. Now sleep."  
  
Dean’s already snoring.


End file.
